Homily at Mass of Christian Burial for Bishop Andrew J. Mcdonald

Homily at Mass of Christian Burial for Bishop Andrew J. McDonald The following homily was preached by Msgr. J. Gaston Hebert, PA, at the Cathedral of St. Andrew in Little Rock on Tuesday, April 8, 2014. Readings: Exodus 18:13-23 1st Corinthians 4:1-5 John 14:15-21 “If you love me and obey the commandments I give you, I will ask the Father and he will give you another Paraclete to be with you always.” (John 14: 15-16) That is quite a promise that Jesus made! Using hindsight, we can now discern the promised presence of the Holy Spirit as He formed the living body of Christ, our Church, in the state of Arkansas. Being infinite in wisdom, even prior to our first bishop, the Spirit sent primarily French priests to the area, who with their distinct blend of intellect and charm, sewed the original seeds of faith, with Father Jacques Gravier celebrating the first Mass in Arkansas in 1700. The first priest assigned to work in Arkansas, Father Nicholas Foucault, died a martyr at the hands of a segment of the Quapaw Indians, to whom he had ministered. 143 years after that first Mass, the pope created the Diocese of Little Rock in 1843, and in the following year named its first bishop, Bishop Andrew Byrne, a native born Irishman, the pastor of St. Andrew’s Church in New York City. Thus began the Irish ecclesiastical deluge. The task before him was gigantic, but with Irish tenacity, faith, and love of the Church, Bishop Byrne traversed the state on foot or horseback in 1845, a trip that unearthed no more than 700 Catholics spread throughout the entire state. It is difficult to imagine what Bishop Byrne must have endured in this state referred to 1 by his contemporary Father Beauprez as a “suburb of hell.” By November of 1846, the good bishop had built our first Cathedral of St. Andrew at Second and Center Sts., even though he wrote, “While I do not need to go to New York, I do not wish to stay in my diocese.” The Holy Spirit does not guide the progress of the Church, nor the consequent salvation of souls upon the like or dislikes, preferences or aversions, of its clergy. To Bishop Byrne’s eternal credit, he struggled on, planting the seeds of Catholicism in a state that had become increasingly hostile towards Catholics. One of his greatest achievements was going to Ireland and bringing back four sisters and five postulants of the Sisters of Mercy in 1851, whose nuns have been a strategic part of the Spirit’s plan for our Church in Arkansas through hospitals and schools for 163 years. In 1862, Bishop Byrne died and another native born Irishman Father Patrick Reilly was made administrator of the diocese, a position he held for five years partially during the Civil War — and I thought I had it bad with two years until our second bishop — of course, another Irishman, Edward Fitzgerald, who had at first declined the pope’s appointment as our bishop, was made an offer by the Holy Father he couldn’t refuse (mandamus — “we command”). Can you imagine … nobody wanted to go to Arkansas? He had only six priests in the entire diocese to spread the Word and care for his flock. But the Irish are not easily deterred: he built churches, increased his clergy, overcame enormous obstacles and worked through his own chronic depression to serve the diocese. He even built and consecrated this cathedral and dedicated it 1881, 133 years ago. The Holy Spirit always has the last laugh: the bishop who did everything he knew not to come here, pleaded not to come, ended up serving the diocese for 40 years. Maybe the Israelites didn’t have it so bad in the dessert after all. While our third bishop, John Baptist Morris, was not from Ireland, he was of Irish stock. The Holy Spirit guided him to build upon the work of his predecessors. He was a natural builder and the effects of his efforts are seen here in Little Rock at our present St. John Catholic Center, formerly the highly esteemed St. John Home Mission Seminary he had formed. 2 He also made critical financial decisions and land acquisitions, which would fund much of the work to be accomplished by his next two successors. I do not know what happened in 1947, a non-Irishman — in fact, an “Arkie” — became the fourth bishop of Little Rock. And, you know, the power of the Holy Spirit even worked through him. He was gentle, kind, folksy. He actually got behind a mule and planted vegetables to help feed the seminarians during World War II. He steered the helm of the ship when words like “authority” and “obedience” became bad words in society, politically, educationally, even ecclesiastically, and in what must have been the saddest duty of his life, Bishop Fletcher had to close St. John Home Mission Seminary in 1967. Guiding the Church as a bishop often means enduring pain and misunderstanding. In the wake of Vatican II, the diocesan see was uneasy with conflict and turmoil. Bishop Fletcher realized what St. Paul wrote in the second reading today was true: it was God who would pass judgment as to whether he had been a trustworthy administrator, and the rest really didn’t matter. His successor was soon to discover that truth also. It was 1972 when, Andrew J. McDonald, the fourth Irishman out of five bishops, was named the fifth bishop of the Diocese of Little Rock. The Spirit called him to leave the security and comfort zone of being surrounded by parishioners, family, and brother priests in Savannah, Ga., who loved and admired him to become a bishop where he was unknown, and frankly, viewed initially as I once told him, an “interloper.” He entered, as I would imagine every bishop did at the time, an ecclesiastical war zone, where those who expected too little and those who expected too much from Vatican II were squared off against one another. The grandeur and triumphalism that had once accompanied the office of the bishop was on its last leg — what essentially remained were the problems and challenges that had always been a part of being a bishop. He made me aware of the change when I met him for the first time on the sidewalk across from this cathedral prior to his installation on Sept. 7, 1972. I started to 3 kneel to kiss his ring. Pulling me to my feet with a hint of admonishment in his eyes, he warmly shook my hand and made one of those little jokes that would become one of his trademarks. The times … the paradigm of the model of the Church and its bishops … they were “achangin’.” Here was a priest sent by the Holy Spirit to breathe new life into the Diocese of Little Rock, to implement the changes and the vision of Vatican II in a diocese and state known for its conservative approach to almost everything. For 400 years little had changed in the universal Church, its approach to spreading and living the Gospel, and its administration of the sacraments. And, frankly, that was the way most of us liked it. And along came Andrew J. McDonald with a big bag full of ideas — actually those of the Church about changing altars around, the use of the vernacular, reconciliation rooms, inclusiveness, shared responsibility, catechesis, the educational system, liturgical changes, and on and on. We Arkies thought he’d “stopped preachin’ and gone to meddlin’.” The design of the Spirit becomes more obvious in sending this strong, intelligent, hard-headed, stubborn Irishman, capable of holding his ground and standing up for what he knew was right for our Church, right for the sheep he was sent to shepherd, and what he knew in his heart was the will of God as expressed through the authority of the Church he served and loved. Because of that he was willing to endure the reticent, even at times ugly and disrespectful, attitude of those he was trying to lead to Christ. He chose God’s will over popularity. Upon his arrival in the diocese, Bishop McDonald stated, “With God’s help, and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, I will live and, if necessary, I will die to prove that I care; to prove that I love.” Those were not empty words. The motto on his episcopal coat of arms stated: “Ave Crux” — “Behold the Cross.” There were times when some felt that Bishop McDonald was himself the crux, only to learn later that the cross referred to the one that he courageously bore in order to lead our diocese closer to the Lord during a time of turmoil within the Church. 4 It is remarkable how the Spirit uses the experiences of our lives in forming us to be instruments of salvation for others. Being one of 12 children taught Bishop Andrew that the good of the whole can only be accomplished through the efforts of the many. As Jethro advised his son-in-law, Moses, in the first reading to appoint others so that his tasks would not overwhelm him and just as Jesus had called for the original Andrew to follow him, Bishop McDonald used the concept of shared responsibility that he had experienced in his own family to continue the work of Christ in Arkansas. He enlisted the aid of clergy, religious, and laity to address the needs of the diocese.

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